


Wallet

by Mishaspanties



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2012-12-18
Packaged: 2017-11-21 11:24:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/597185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mishaspanties/pseuds/Mishaspanties
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <i>I was so tired/as I walked through my door/I let all the contents of your wallet on the floor.</i>
  </p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	Wallet

He is walking down the dark street, breaths huffing out white clouds before him, when he sees it. The wallet looks sad and abandoned - somewhat like him, he supposes – sitting on the curb of the street in front of the local diner. He glances one way down the street, then the other. No one.

Derek picks it up, wiping off any dirt with the palm of his ratty glove, and places it into his pocket.

When he gets inside his apartment, he takes off his hat, then his gloves, and then his coat, carefully placing them on the charred coat hanger. He exhales heavily and pulls out the wallet. Derek fingers the worn cover - very likely a man's - and opens it up, holding his breath.

Inside are photos of a family of three. He walks to his tiny kitchen, placing his own stack of cards (bound together with rubber band) on the kitchen counter. He traces their faces reverently. A man, eyes lined heavily with laugh lines whose calloused hands are wrapped around the shoulders of a younger woman. She is laughing, a flush over her cheeks. The man looks young, here, and there are creases where it has been folded and unfolded many times.

The picture behind it is of the man, again, with the woman; they look older, and they both stare down at who Derek assumes to be their son. He's missing one front tooth, and is grinning brightly at the camera. When he flips it over, he reads the date: September 26th, 2000.

He flips it back again and stares at the boy's face.

(He, himself, used to be happy, too)

Setting it aside, Derek carefully pulls every item out and lays it out carefully before him. The license says very simply: John Stilinski, born December 6th, 1953. There's a gift card for Starbucks, and a card for Blockbuster. In another pocket is a receipt.

It's a bit crumpled, but he can tell that there's writing on the back. Derek turns it over.

_Dad,_

_Don't wait up for me_

_At Scott's_

_DON'T EAT ANY GREASY FOOD!!!_

_\- Stiles_

He has a brief moment to wonder why the hell someone would name their child Stiles Stilinski, of all things, but it takes him another moment to remember his own sister. (Whose name was Haley Hale. Was.) Derek carefully places the receipt back in the crooked line of items from another family – a family he doesn't have.

He closes his eyes, thinking about the plans for the next day. Work, maybe stop by the gym, and then down to the Police Department to see if they can call up this John Stilinski.

He'll never know who this man is, or what kind of a person he is, or if he's just as broken as Derek is, was, and will be.

He'll turn it over to the department, and when Stilinski gets the call, the man will maybe breathe a sigh of relief at having those pictures back.

Derek Hale will never know this John Stilinski, nor his son, Stiles Stilinski.

(But he wants to. He wishes.)


End file.
